Wednesday, 4 June 2008

Rear Window

Paris is known for its high density population, and our flat, with its inside windows a matter of feet away from the facing building across the cour is no exception. Now that "summer" is here, the open windows provide an even greater degree of intimacy between the two builings, something which has not escaped my Gemini curiosity.

I have to admit to absent mindedly taking a passing interest in our neighbours, especially at night, when the glare of lights turns the flats opposite into veritable theatre-sets. This is what happens when you don't have a TV. The guy in the studio diagonally below always seems to be having a great time, with a constant stream of friends sitting round his table, eating take-away suppers or in full-on party mode. We like him, he has actually engaged in casual banter whilst leaning out the window for a cigarette. The hotel on the other side has a constant stream of unsavvy residents, little realising we've all got ringside views into their bedroom. The poor sods. It's like, "Get a room! Oh, right. Sorry, carry on!"

Then there is the duplex above the party guy, with a puzzling mixture of inhabitants ranging from a bearded forty-something man to a teenage girl via a mixture of twenty-something female students (from the looks of their folders out on the table etc.) They never do anything interesting; as far as I can make out they seem to have a cosy cooking rosta going and each sticks to their own room. All this information has been gathered over the last 6 months mind you, I rarely turn the lights off in my bedroom and settle down at the windowsill for a proper gawp.

This morning I got more than I bargained for, when bearded-houseshare-guy decided to spend a full four minutes airing his behind, perfectly framed by the green shuttered windows. It was a Photo Opportunity if ever I saw one, but I drew the line at actually photographing my subjects and posting them on the internet. That would be an entirely different blog


  1. This is quite a laugh! I tend to take an unhealthy (?) interest in my neighbors, too, watching them from across the street. But I love to peek in on their lives and imagine what their stories are. You're not alone my friend! Neighbors are a funny thing here in Paris though—your post reminded me of a poem I wrote in my first months here. VoilĂ  le lien:

    Thanks for sharing!
    Smiles and all the best,

  2. I can not see a single thing across the street here.
    I do like hearing the clip clop of heels in the morning early on the pavement and the people upstairs could definitely uses some slippers but that's it. Sad really the lack of lace curtain news I can report...